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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782331">Room Service</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcages7/pseuds/birdcages7'>birdcages7</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>For Life [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Smut, Foreskin Play, Hotel Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Referance to Fisting, Rimming, Wet &amp; Messy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:56:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcages7/pseuds/birdcages7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s the catch?” Billy remembered asking, feeling Steve shift a little to get comfortable. He’d remembered to take his glasses off this night at least. Folded them carefully and set aside on his nightstand. Usually Billy did that for him. Awoken from silence by gentle snores.</p><p>“No catch. Just need to work for a couple days, give some speech to shareholders.” Steve rolled his head up and kissed Billy’s jaw. He remembers that. “I’ve been promising you a vacation for months, and it’ll be on my dad’s dime. Please?”</p><p>***</p><p>Part One: Start at the End</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>For Life [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>143</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Room Service</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The idea for this verse started out of life. I'm nearly thirty, due to be married next year, and got thinking about all the little life experiences I've had with my partner up to this point. Little relationship things are a well of inspiration to me, so this verse was created! Personally, I'm pretty damn proud of this world I've created and I plan to have a lot of updates for it, I've got several ideas ready to go at this very moment, so I hope you all enjoy. Or at least indulge me and a slightly softer side that's hidden in me somewhere.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I need to go to a conference in Hawaii if you wanna come? It’ll be fun. I’ve only got to work for, like, two days and then we can spend the rest of the week on the beach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy should have been suspicious right then. At that easy question asked in their own bed, hands and limbs tangled together in the dark. Breathing each other in for the first time in weeks. Billy was usually asleep by the time Steve eventually came home and just crawled into bed without dinner. Mentally exhausted. But that night he’d managed to get away early. They’d actually managed to eat a meal together, even if it was just pasta alfredo with broccoli and spinach, and it was past nine oclock, and they’d just fallen into bed pretty much straight afterwards. Dirty plates left on the table to be dealt with in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the catch?” Billy remembered asking, feeling Steve shift a little to get comfortable. He’d remembered to take his glasses off this night at least. Folded them carefully and set aside on his nightstand. Usually Billy did that for him. Awoken from silence by gentle snores.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No catch. Just need to work for a couple days, give some speech to shareholders.” Steve rolled his head up and kissed Billy’s jaw. He remembers that. “I’ve been promising you a vacation for months, and it’ll be on my dad’s dime. Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy couldn’t say no. It sounded so promising. Just a couple days hanging out in a hotel, probably a </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> one, before they could go off and actually spend time together again. Even better if Harrington Sr. was paying one way or another. Needless to say, he and Billy didn’t get on. They’d only met a handful of times, the first one years ago now at some country club high society function. One look and Billy felt like dirt. They hadn’t actually spoken since, only exchanging introductions and polite hellos at Christmas gatherings when absolutely necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last date Billy and Steve had was Valentine's day. Neither were really one for the holiday dripping with love hearts, tacky proposals and over the top declarations of emotion. Besides, they’d been together for years, the effort wasn’t really needed anymore. They got each other a card, sure, wrote some dirty poem inside. Billy had sent roses to Steve’s office the first year they were dating of course. Secretly though that was more of a territorial move. This boy is </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But this year Steve had taken a half day, rarer than catching lighting in a bottle. They went to see a movie neither really remembered the plot of, went out for pizza and beer at a little hole in the wall place, walked through the park holding hands in the dark, both warm and slightly tipsy from alcohol. It was what dumb teenagers did, what they did back at the very start. It was nice, and simple, and so unromantic. It was perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was February. It was now September. And Billy was in a hotel room in Honolulu, bored out of his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two days had become three, was quickly spiraling into four. He hadn’t left the hotel, didn’t want to go and do tourist things without Steve being there to enjoy them too. Didn’t want to go and do anything when he’d been promised a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vacation</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t a vacation. Billy didn’t know why he’d expected anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Steve had an important job right from the start. He was shy in saying so, didn’t like to admit he worked for his old man. He was the human side of Harrington Construction now. He spearheaded charitable donations and events for incredible causes. Worked hard for years to build himself up, make his own name within the business and not just be in his father’s shadow. Had paved ways for hospital wings to be built for sick kids, temporary homes nearby for their families to stay during treatments to cut down on stressful travelling. Worked close with local council for historical buildings to be more accessible to all who wanted to enjoy them. Once a year had a huge gala night to raise money for all kinds of causes that took months of planning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deeply, Billy was incredibly proud. He loved his own job, fixing up classic cars at an auto shop just outside of town, but he didn’t own it. He wasn’t in charge of anything but ordering new parts he needed. He had no desire to own a business or work for himself. He liked his boss and the people he worked with. It was comfortable. Always had been. Steve had a whole team of people underneath him to look after. The levels of pressure were wildly different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Billy felt ignored sometimes. He knew it wasn’t on purpose, that Steve still loved his wrench monkey ass the same way Billy loved his suit cladded one, but that feeling was still there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially on a plush hotel bed, practically starfished in the middle of white sheets, the tv playing the same episode of Scrubs he’d seen about eighteen times so he wasn’t paying attention too, watching Steve sit at the desk in front of the window that looked directly out to the pool and the gorgeous beach just a little beyond. The beach they had yet to step one foot on but Billy was promised at least yesterday they would have by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve had come up to the room with a sad look on his face, deep doe eyes all big and apologetic behind his wire frame glasses. Billy was a fool and just melted at that expression every time. Every late night and missed appointment over the years he’d fallen for the same expression, though Steve was at least a little better at keeping his calendar now. No doubt because he now had a secretary. He’d come straight over, cupped Billy’s cheek where he was lying in the bed and promised he was done now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Promised</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was just going to take a shower and then they could </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> begin their vacation. Even though it was nearly nighttime. They could head downstairs and get drunk, open up a tab on the company card and go wild like suburban moms on a bachelorette party in Vegas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of two work phones had rung while Steve was in the shower. He’d come out of the bathroom talking on it, towel wrapped around his middle, hair still dripping, taking up a spot at the desk and that’s where he’d been since. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For two hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy was bored. Frustrated, and tired, and bored. It was September. Their last date had been Valentines, and before that their last few consecutive days together had been New Years. Billy was frustrated, and tired, and bored, and losing his damn mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, for all his flaws, Billy </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve. Loved him like only a madman could. He loved how hardworking and dedicated he was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>to a point</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He loved Steve’s dumb snort laugh that took up his whole face that he tried to hide still, like Billy would hate hearing how happy he really was. He loved the little ticklish spot right under his ribs that got Steve kicking and rolling in bed when they would fool around, that was still there after years of being poked and prodded and brushed over while Steve stood over the stove cooking them dinner, and hadn’t dulled one little bit. He loved that Steve was smart enough to run his own department, direct his own team, but didn’t know how to build a simple Ikea dining chair with six pieces at most. He loved Steve’s stupid souvineer pencil collection that just sat in various old mugs over the fireplace in their living room, none of which were allowed to be used to write anything with, that they’d built up over years of visiting terrible tourist attractions across the country like the World’s Largest Ball of Paint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loved Steve’s soft features and chocolate eyes, loved the way his lips tasted no matter what, loved the way his slender hands were always soft on Billy’s skin, loved the moles that lined his body that was once lean and hard, and now started to show a little roundness at being nearly forty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over at Steve, hunched over a laptop balanced on his knees even though the desk was right there, framed by the sun setting outside. Another day going, going, gone. He pinched his nose under his glasses, muttered something about quarterly targets and The Roadhouse Project. He looked worn out. Billy hadn’t really seen him a whole lot in the daylight lately to notice just how tired he looked. Tired and pent up. How long had he been like this? Is this what he looked like at work? Why didn’t he ever just stop? What was so important?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, this was ending right now. Billy was determined to get his vacation with his fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>partner of nearly twenty years</span>
  </em>
  <span> one way or another. Even if it meant throwing his whole kit of expensive work electronics into the damn ocean to get his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy shifted to sit up and slid off the bed, padding over barefoot. Steve glanced up, gave him a sorry smile, mouthed </span>
  <em>
    <span>just two more minutes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, moved the laptop to the desk to better type with one hand. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded far away. Further than the hotel. Billy combed his fingers through now damp locks, thumbed at the small amount of grey coming through at the temples, Steve closed his eyes and went with it, the occasional </span>
  <em>
    <span>uh huh</span>
  </em>
  <span> leaving his lips for the caller. Billy pulled his tank top off behind Steve’s back, walked around and sunk to his knees between Steve’s legs, unwrapped the now practically dry towel and started placing firm kisses over the soft cock underneath. He felt Steve shift in surprise, heard his breath hitch just a little, a hand coming to Billy’s hair to try and push him away. But Billy held onto the legs of the chair, made his whole body rigid, started using his tongue. Felt Steve start to come to life under his lips. He glanced a look up and caught wild eyes in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caught Steve mouthing </span>
  <em>
    <span>what are you doing? I’m on the phone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re always on the phone.” Billy gave a firm lick along Steve’s shaft. Suckled teasingly at the head once he got to it. Felt echoes of Steve’s toes curling into the carpet either side of Billy’s bent legs. He placed the very tip of his tongue at the slit and pushed, lapped slow and pointedly, watched Steve bite his lip up above, but didn’t try to stop anything again. Felt the grip loosen in his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock and just worked on the head, sucked silent but wet, ever so lightly grazed his teeth over sensitive nerve endings, rolled the tip of his tongue under Steve’s foreskin. Everything had Steve squirming in the chair, had his adams apple bobbing with thick swallows to keep control. Had his cock growing full in Billy’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to think about the last time they’d had sex. Actual proper sex that wasn’t just a fumbled handjob under the sheets, Steve far too tired but just desperate to make Billy happy and vice versa, take some of the pressure of life off for a few short minutes. Billy was determined now though, he was going to be split in two even if he had to tie his husband to the bed and ride him into next goddamn week himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s glasses hit the table with a small clatter, head back and forearm over his eyes, still holding the phone to his ear but clearly no longer listening. His chest was starting to sweat with holding back, the inverted triangle of hair there getting darker. Billy smirked, worked his tongue more at the sensitive little ridge on the underside, let his thick fingers rub through a maintained thicket of greying hair at the base, applying more pressure and urgency.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get off the phone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hey, that’s great. Listen, I’m actually meant to be… yeah yeah I’ll call you back when I’m in the office…. Okay… okay yeah… okay just….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy brought his free hand up to cup Steve’s balls, squeezed them lightly, moved them up so fingers could get behind, rub at that sensitive little spot hidden away in small circles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s breath caught in his throat. He twitched hard on Billy’s tongue and up against his soft palate. His whole chest flushed deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nearly twenty years, Billy knew every weak point just as Steve knew his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But still, the person on the other end of the line kept talking, not getting the hint that the conversation was done. That Steve had long since stopped paying attention, that the muscles in his legs were starting to draw tight from just a little bit of teasing. Because that’s all this was really. A prelude to the main event.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their last date had been Valentines. They’d fucked on Valentines, Billy was sure of that. Maybe sometime in July, probably Billy’s birthday. Yes definitely, they’d sat on their deck and watched the neighbourhood fireworks with wine and cake, one thing led to another and Billy had to fix their porch swing with an incredibly sore back the next day. That was July, it was September.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were fucking tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy looked up again, pulled his best innocent face, and kept rubbing that little spot in firm circles as he let go of Steve's cock with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The head was shiny and red, threatening to start leaking already. Billy lapped at it a few times, watching Steve's hand ball into a fist as it just hung in the air off his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Uh huh</span>
  </em>
  <span>… No no… no just…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy got to his feet and kicked his boxers off towards a corner, already hard under the fabric and leant down towards Steve's free ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you're not done in sixty seconds I'm sortin’ myself out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a thinly veiled threat, but one that had Steve moving his arm, chocolate drop eyes blown completely dark, mouth hanging slightly open trying not to pant down the line. Like a deer in headlights. Billy smirked and pressed his thumb to Steve's plump lower lip, pressed down to open his mouth up more before slipping a finger inside to sweep over his tongue, getting it as wet as he could without having the other man suck and make noise since the call was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so important</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Steve looked pretty dumbfounded, but then he usually did when all the blood in his body was down south. It was another thing that Billy loved about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sixty seconds." Billy repeated and walked back to the bed, placed himself right in the middle on his knees, bent forward so his chest was on the sheets and his face in the pillows. He knew how to put on a show, knew what Steve liked to see. Knew that letting out little groans as he started rubbing that wet digit over himself would do the trick. His knees already started aching dull in protest of this position, and having just been on the floor, but it was Steve's favourite. Truth be told, it was Billy's too. It was the best way to show a grand ultimatum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eat it, fuck it or fuck off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy hoped he'd get the first two. God he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> the first two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed the finger around his rim, just pressing firm but never going further, counting down in his head. Usually Billy was a bit all over the place with times. Five minutes usually meant at least twenty. It was his mechanic’s brain. Steve was the punctual one out of the two, when he could remember what he had to be punctual about. But with this, it was sixty seconds or nothing. Billy would happily fuck himself, make Steve watch from the couch at the foot of the bed. Make him sleep there too. Punishment for the night. Start again in the morning. Have Steve earn his place back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy didn't have to look to know Steve was watching. He could feel eyes burning all over his skin, causing Billy to flush from his thighs up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>24… 23… 22…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay… okay I'm… hey you know what, I'll just email you. Okay bye!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy rolled his head out of the pillows to look at Steve again, watch him fiddle with a few taps and set the godforsaken device on the table at last. He was still rock hard. It looked almost painful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Finally got your attention?" Even scrunched into fabric Billy's smirk was wicked. He loved it when he won. Always had and always will. He pressed the tip of his finger just past his rim with a small groan as a personal reward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jesus christ Bill, that was my dad!" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose like he was still wearing glasses, face as red as his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy just about howled laughing. He'd done some shit around Harrington Sr in the past but that was one of the best. "Oh darlin', I'm sorry I can't even </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretend</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stood from the chair, at last, and made his way to the bed. The mattresses dipped under the pressure of his knees and god if Billy didn't feel a tingle still at being so openly exposed, feeling Steve's eyes like a bullseye right on his hole. Billy wiggled his ass, just a little. In his youth it probably looked a lot more alluring, didn't have his small belly following the movement like a ripple of water. Over the years nothing had dulled though. He still felt excited feeling Steve's hands on his cheeks, pulling them apart ever so slightly, at the small hum of appreciation that followed. Billy moved his hands to the sheets, then underneath to squeeze his cock twice, keep this going and not just blow like he was sixteen again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know you owe me, right?" Billy joked, voice getting deep and breathy with anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, I'm 37-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"39," Billy corrected with a grin. Steve was terrified about turning forty. Billy found it hilarious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>37</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and nearly blew my load on the phone to my fucking father. If anything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>babe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you owe me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy chuckled. He couldn't help it. Seeing Steve riled up, even if he wasn't really angry about anything, was kind of cute. He wasn’t the one that got angry. He was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>negotiator</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "Well, here I am. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Owing</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Steve spitting over Billy's hole  suddenly was nothing short of aggressive. It definitely silenced the shorter man, had him panting feeling it drip warm down to his balls. Long fingers started to knead the meat of Billy’s ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so…” Steve finished his sentence with just a frustrated noise, and then his tongue was where Billy had longed it to be. Wide and flat and wet. Licking up the trail of spit and pushing it against Billy’s hole. Lapping, slowing down, and lapping again. Sending jolts of pleasure through Billy’s whole body as he moaned into the plush pillow and kept still, the sheets twisting into the fingers of his free hand as his cock kicked in the other. Another squeeze needed. A sharp slap to the back of his thigh made him laugh around a small yelp, but that dissolved into a groan as the very tip of Steve’s tongue started poking and prodding against tight muscle, pushing its way in without much fuss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was Billy’s favourite part. The initial breach. It always made his eyes roll up into his head no matter how many times Steve indulged him. That talented tongue that could close a business deal in minutes licking away at his walls, pulling him apart at the seams like it was no big deal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knew all of his buttons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as much as he loved this, being licked apart and turned into a sweaty, whimpering mess, his knees were starting at ache. This position on the bed mixed with being on the hard floor earlier was starting to take a toll. Billy didn’t want to admit he was getting old, his job kept him fit and physical, but it also kept him bent over open hoods all day. Kept him knelt down in front of tireless wheel arches. His knees were done and his back was shot to shit. Being ass up in the middle of a soft mattress wasn’t good for either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve pulled back with a little soft pant, placed wet kisses to the base of Billy’s spine, as if he had read his husband’s mind. “Need to move?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wiggled away some more to give Billy space to flop over onto his back and straighten out his legs. The relief was immediate, flooding through his system. He must have let out a groan because Steve chuckled, leaning down to kiss over his chest with that filthy mouth, flick his tongue over the one nipple piercing Billy still wore. A reminisce of his younger years. Still as sensitive as ever. Made him groan and squirm a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re getting old baby,” Steve muttered against the silver bar in a sing-song fashion. Billy rubbed his hand through the brunette mane, sweeping it back, ran his hand down to the back of that slender neck, fingers making a home between shoulder blades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never as old as you though darlin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughed a little and bit down, causing Billy to hiss and his dick to kick against his stomach. Slender fingers disappeared down between Billy's thighs and found his spit slicked hole, rubbing and pressing. A sudden look crossed over Steve's face as he raised up more on his elbows, fingers just about pushing with purpose and sending Billy mad with the fact those digits </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> weren't inside him. His whole body was now burning with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We brought stuff right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If by stuff you mean lube, yes. I made sure to pack some."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve left the bed completely, left Billy cold and aching in search for the bottle in one of their half empty cases. Billy started stroking himself slowly during the game of hide and seek, propping himself up more on the copious amount of soft pillows and putting one under his hips, primarily for the angle but also his back. Future proofing for the next day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life teaches you little things like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve returned with a triumphant </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah hah</span>
  </em>
  <span> and settled between Billy's legs this time for a deep kiss, tongues lazily rolling over each other. Billy let go of himself and wrapped his thick fingers around Steve's aching cock instead, causing the older man to groan into his mouth. To be eaten up like a four course meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sharp snap the bottle was opened and Steve sat back to carefully coat his fingers. Billy let his legs fall wider as they returned to where he needed them most. One quickly became two and Billy's rhythm faulted, still stroking his partner’s dick, as those fingers found his spot blind and seemingly without effort. Steve's little grin confirmed as such.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God I hate you know me so good sometimes," Billy muttered out through building moans as those fingers rubbed him mercilessly, stretched him open and added a friend. His cock jumped and oozed over his belly with every circular rub of his prostate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No you don't," Steve said back, voice deep and rich with desire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy couldn't help but agree, but he didn't say it out loud. Deep, </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep</span>
  </em>
  <span> down he was still a little peeved at what it had taken for them to get to this point. But he wasn't about to say that either. He wasn't crazy. Well, maybe he was for marrying the fucker, who was now slicking his cock up with far too much lube in excitement and probable desperation, but he'd known that for years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kissed again before Steve started pushing in bluntly, both groaning into each other's mouths. Steve was going purposely slow, trying not to grin and give the game away but Billy knew, of course he did. They both knew Billy could take it, hell he could take a lot worse if their short foray into fisting was anything to go by, but Steve was going to drag it out. Punishment for the phone incident. Billy’s hands found Steve’s forearms, long arms caging Billy in the best way, getting trapped on the spot. He tried moving his hips, pushing down to get what he’d wanted for months, but Steve kept it slow. Torturous. He looked like he was in heaven though, eyes half open, mouth now twisted into that stupid half grin, like the cat that got the cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy loved that look. In all honesty, he just loved when Steve looked happy in general. It was just even better if he was causing it. Better still if that long cock was filling him up so perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Billy dug his short nails into the forearms within his grasp, trying to make his point, still trying to move and just be full already. Steve chuckled, bent his head back down and kissed over Billy’s strong jaw, up to his ear, where he just moaned and shifted barely more than a half inch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>owe</span>
  </em>
  <span> me babe, just be patient…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patient? No.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was September. Their last date had been Valentines. The last time he remembered them having sex, actual proper sex, not a tired blowjob or half hearted rub down under the sheets still mostly dressed in pajamas was July.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy was done being patient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He locked his ankles behind Steve’s back and </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulled</span>
  </em>
  <span>, pulled him deep to the hilt with enough force and suddenness that both of them gasped. Steve’s position slipped at the movement and his whole bodyweight landed right on Billy’s torso, knocking more wind out of him. But it was worth it. Worth it to see Steve scrabble to lean back up on his hands with arms fully outstretched, his face contorted with both concern for maybe having hurt the man underneath but with that flicker of pure lust in his dark eyes at being balls deep. Those plush pink lips, kiss bitten and soft, started to move to say something. Billy clamped his hand over Steve’s mouth for a moment, panting getting his breath back.</span>
</p><p><span>“Darlin’, I love you, you know I do. But </span><em><span>please</span></em> <em><span>just</span></em> <em><span>fuck me already.</span></em><span>” Usually Billy was above begging, but not right now. Not when he was so full and already teetering on the edge of so many things. He felt Steve place a kiss on his palm before starting to move, dragging and rolling his hips, starting off slow but quickly building up to a grueling pace.</span></p><p>
  <span>It was exactly what Billy needed. Probably what they both needed. He kept his ankles locked though, just in case. Removed his hand to hear Steve moan from his chest through the sounds of sweat slicked skin slapping together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Steve got his hands on Billy’s hips, angled him down into the mattress so every thrust dragged so </span>
  <em>
    <span>exquisitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> over that bundle of nerves it was all over. Billy’s head rolled back into the nest of pillows underneath as he fisted his cock in time. Steve’s lips were hot against his neck, muttering filth like he did when he was right on the edge too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God you feel so good baby</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you always take me so fucking, ngh-ah, so fucking good</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna make sure you can’t walk for days</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna knock you up this time</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy had </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> had a pregnancy kink. The thought of having something living inside him that wasn’t meant to be there, like the friendly gut bacteria on those yoghurt commercials, made him physically squirm. He could never watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>that scene</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Alien. But those words, muttered hot and just dripping with so much raw desire next to his ear, made his brain swim. Made him come with a cry over his fingers and around Steve’s cock buried deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It probably wasn’t the words at all, just how they were said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching Steve come was always a delight. His eyebrows furrowed together like he was trying to concentrate, eyes screwed shut and tight on the build up. Then when it hit, when Billy could feel the warmth pooling, Steve’s whole face fell slack, like his brain was shorting out. Eyes opened up just a little to watch, the furrow long gone, mouth hanging half open to let out whatever noise was trapped in his throat. Today it was a garbled out groan that could maybe have been words at some point, but all just blended together as his hips slowed after riding the high. Billy unlocked his ankles to let Steve move if he wanted too, but he seemed quite content to just flop down, rest his sweaty forehead on an equally sweaty shoulder. Stay joined together. Just for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shared a kiss, many kisses, but neither spoke until they were both cleaned up and the bed was put back into a more organised state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Bill,” Steve said quietly from his spot on Billy’s shoulder, laying on his side, arm curled around the thicker frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?” Billy knew. But he was still feeling a little petty so wanted to hear his husband say it. Admit he had been a total ass lately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For ignoring you. Us. There’s a lot happening at work and just… it’s not an excuse-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like an excuse….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> an excuse. But I’m gonna try harder when we get home. Be home by seven at least. At least not leave it, like, a month between sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three,” Billy corrected, like he hadn’t been keeping track on a mental calendar. “Three months.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Steve’s face fall more than he saw it, tucked more into his shoulder in shame. “Fuck, really? God I’m sorry.” Billy glanced down when Steve moved his head, rested his chin on tanned muscle, felt the arm around his middle get just a little tighter, fingers splaying out to touch as much skin as possible. Those big doe eyes were back. Warm and deep and so full of emotion. A gentle kiss was placed on his cheek. It was like a one two punch and worked every single time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me sunflower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>K.O.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy sighed softly, made a show about possibly thinking it over even though they both knew the answer. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>guess</span>
  </em>
  <span> so.” He unwrapped his arm from around Steve’s body for just a moment, wiggled his hand so his wedding band caught the hotel light and glinted slightly for them both to see. “Almost as if I’m like, stuck with you for life or somethin’ and we gotta work through these thin’s like adults.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckled warm and took his hand out from under the covers to do the same. “Yeah. It’s weird that, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So weird.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://bird-in-a-cage.tumblr.com/">Tumblr page.</a> Come ask me stuff! Headcannons more than welcome! And like I said, I have this whole timeline planned out, I'm dying to share!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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